Stories In Order:
Changes
Making Changes
Final Changes
Skye volunteered for the gruesome task of helping get the bodies ready for a proper burial. Holding a rebreather, she waited by the cooler where the Phoenix Commander ordered the dead from both sides stored. There were no burials during the occupation and the walk in cooler used to store fresh produce and meat now doubled as a makeshift morgue. She met with Corporal Reilly and three soldiers outside the thick door.
It was the morning after the return of Commander Taylor. Skye spent the night with her mother, catching each other up, but now she wanted to help. A task she knew not many was willing to tackle; too many memories of the dead while they once lived, only days before.
"Were you ordered or volunteer?" Skye wanted to know if Reilly was forced or willingly participated.
"I volunteered, but these," she motioned at three men in camouflage cargo pants and tight brown t-shirts, showing off their considerable muscles, "had the bad luck of standing too close to me." She looked at the door and back to Skye, "Ready?" At Skye's nod, she pulled open the door as everyone secured their masks.
Reilly and Skye entered through the wide door together, stopping and looking at the pile of dead bodies. Skye had never seen so many dead at once, but for Reilly it brought back memories from the future where on more than one occasion they had been forced to mass bury dead from both sides of conflicts and sometimes together to avoid the spread of disease. Seeing dead from both sides of this conflict flashed unpleasant memories to the surface.
She approached the still bound form of Lieutenant Washington, pulling her combat knife; she ran it through the center of the plastic restraining band. Washington's arms parted and settled on each side of her. "That's not right," Reilly picked up a hand and dropped it, Skye moving to her side.
"What's wrong?" She wanted to help personally take care of the Lieutenant, for the Commander. Seeing her body was difficult.
"Rigor mortise should have set in by now. Her arms should be stiff," Reilly felt for a pulse, holding her fingers against the carotid for a good minute, she couldn't tell if she felt anything in that position, "help me roll her over," together they rolled Washington off the pile and onto the floor. The men stood back not knowing what to do, especially since it was their Lieutenant on the floor at their feet.
The movement caused the air to rush out of Washington making it seem like she was breathing. Reilly heard Skye gasp, and explained, "Not so fast, bodies can make noise as gases are expelled, but they don't open their eyes or close them." Reilly's hands started shaking, "Wash, Wash, do you hear me?" She saw Wash blink.
Skye dropped to her knees beside Reilly and cried, "Oh my God," as a ragged breath came from the Lieutenant.
Reilly motioned for one of the men. Skye was roughly pushed out of the way as he scooped his Lieutenant up and booked for the door. After a pause, Reilly, Skye and the other two men fought to get out of the door at the same time and run after the young soldier, not thinking of informing anyone. It was early and the colony was still waking up.
"Go get Dr. Shannon," Reilly spoke to one of the running soldiers and he took off at a dead run shedding his rebreather as he raced to the Shannon home.
They burst into the clinic and got her onto a biobed. Nobody was present except a few sleeping people, drugged from injuries. Reilly checked for a pulse again. There it was, slight, but steady.
The heavy persistent pounding at the Shannon's door got Jim up from the breakfast table in a hurry. He opened to a heavy breathing young soldier, "Need Dr. Shannon, emergency," he pushed by Jim and entered, seeing the woman he was ordered to fetch still sitting with her children, "It's Wash, she's alive, the clinic," he got nothing more out as he was shoved out of the way. He found himself running behind the Shannon's, only managing to outrun the baby of the family.
As one, Jim and his wife burst through the clinic door, the older kids hot on their heels. Elizabeth turned on the biobed, "She has a nasty concussion." She raced around gathering supplies and soon had a needle injecting something in Washington's arm as she explained what she was doing, "That'll take the swelling down, and this will rehydrate and give nutrients." She moved to Alicia's head, looking with her own eyes what the scanners had already told her.
"Alicia," shook her shoulder while Jim and the kids watched from the other side of the bed; Jim reaching for her hand.
Alicia's eyes opened, unfocused at first, trying to remember, "Lucas, you killed me, I'm dead and must be in hell, the way my head feels." She was sure she was talking to herself until Jim Shannon came into view and she focused up into his wide eyes, "Yep, I'm in hell."
"That was a damn fool thing you did, Wash. Don't you ever, ever pull a stunt like that again," he was yelling, not caring who he woke up.
"Shannon, dial it down," Wash groaned reaching up to touch the tender area. All there, just sore.
"Jim, not now," his wife admonished, while the kids reached out and touched Alicia's arm and quietly welcomed her back as their mother motioned them to speak softly.
Reilly pushed in, "Hey Wash," she smiled.
Alicia became aware something was smelling awful, and it appeared to be her; death and something else. She wrinkled her nose, "I need a shower and clean clothes. You mind, Reilly?" She was also aware of dried urine between her legs and could feel the stiff fabric; that was the other smell. She started to sit up, but the doctor pushed her back down.
"Not so fast, you stubborn soldier, I'm not done," she was forcibly pushed back down. Her protesting head complied with a moan. She felt a prick, "this should help with the pain," Dr. Shannon went back to her reading the body scan hovering over the bed, "I don't see any other sign of injury. Your shoulders are going to be sore from being bound that long and wrist will be tender for a day or two. Can I get you anything, Alicia?"
Feeling better with the pain subsiding, Wash really wanted a shower. "A shower would be nice." She was sure she was pleading, at least that's what came to her ears from listening to her tone.
"I'll bring clothes, but first I'm informing the Commander," everyone started at the mention of his forgotten name.
"What did I miss?" Wash was helped to her feet by the doctor and held until steady.
"A shower first, if you can make it." The doctor silenced her husband with, "There's plenty of time for story telling later," she led Alicia to the shower room.
Before they were out of the room, Jim called out, "Chula Chaum worked, we are cut off."
She found him in the market, looking like he hadn't slept. He was standing in front of a basket of fruit trying to decide if he cared enough to take one. His heart still bled and sleeping in her bed last night only amplified his loss. He turned as an unprofessional Reilly skidded to a halt and bumped into him, "Corporal," he reached out to catch her.
"Okay, you lucky Bastard," not the most appropriate opening, but she got her desired expression of surprise. "We had a problem with one of the corpses," she added a "Sir," as an afterthought.
"How can a dead person be a problem, Corporal?"
"Dead people who refuse to die can be a problem," she was smiling from ear to ear. "I know of a certain Lieutenant who is probably going to tell you to shut up before the day is out, Sir."
That hurt and his expression darkened, "Explain?" He knew if she were joking, he would snap her neck.
She shook her head at his denseness, "Wash used to mutter under her breath that you were dense." She was enjoying this, "I'm going to get her some clothes." She turned to walk away, "Oh," she turned back, "did I forget to mention we found Wash alive. She's in the clinic raising hell with Jim Shannon," she grinned and pointed in the direction of the clinic. "Wash wants to see you, Sir."
He still didn't really believe Reilly, but would check for himself and marched to the clinic. If not true, she would be posted to an outpost until retirement. Entering the clinic, he found Jim and Elizabeth hugging each other and the kids smiling and talking together. They all smiled at him, but the room was empty. Looking around, his heart sank. Maybe he hallucinated Reilly telling him his Wash was alive because he wanted to hear it so badly. His voice failed and he stopped, not knowing what to say or do. Maybe he would just leave.
He felt a pair of arms encircle is mid-section, "She's alive," he looked down into Elizabeth Shannon's happy expression.
"Where?" He could barely croak. His throat was tight and constricted. He wanted to cry again. Would this nightmare never end.
"She talked me into a shower," Dr. Shannon pulled away and pointed to the back of the room.
Not waiting, Nathaniel stalked to the shower room. "Wait," he felt the small doctor try and stop him. He heard Jim saying he and the kids would leave now. Shannon knew what was coming and didn't want Zoe to know things like that yet.
Shaking off the doctor like water drops off his fingers, he strode into the shower room. He could see a female form behind the frosted glass door, and the signs of her washing off. Her hands were washing between her legs for an extra long time. Normally, if he knew for sure it was his 'Wash', he would, like a good pervert enjoy the show, but he just wanted to know who this woman was. Heart aching, he threw the shower door open, and froze.
There she was, now looking at him, water cascading off her body not trying to hide anything from him. She needed him as much as he did her. He heard Dr. Shannon tell Wash, "I tried to stop him," as he stepped into the shower, jacket, gun, knife, boots and all his clothes.
"Wash," he cupped her face gently. She placed her wet hands on his t-shirt not noticing the pistol harness under part of her fingers.
"Good to see you too, Sir." The last word started with a smile which turn to a grimace, "My shoulders," she dropped her arms to her sides as he dropped his to gently massage the top of her arms where the joints met. She looped her fingers into the belt loops near his buckle.
She raised her lips and he captured hers in his own, still believing it to be a dream, from nightmare to bliss. They stayed like that, lips saying what words never could this soon, that he never expected to do this again. He felt the water cool. Smiling into her lips, he offered, "Need help washing?"
"I was just finishing," she pushed him out and turned the water off. He held the towel for her, wrapping it around her wet, naked body, pulling her back to his soaked clothes.
They continued kissing until a discrete, "Excuse me," told them they weren't alone.
Dr. Shannon held Wash's clothes, "I sent Reilly to get dry clothes for you, Taylor," she pointed to him. "Stop that for now," she left them alone with a smile that wouldn't leave her face.
"I was just getting started," Taylor called after the retreating doctor.
They heard the doctor's voice float back to them, "Not here, you're not," and grinned at each other, together again.
He toweled Wash dry over her weak protest. She loved the attention he was paying her. He toweled her hair and blew it with the dryer in the room. He brushed it around her shoulders, pushing it over her ears with his fingers, stealing another kiss.
"Maybe I should put some clothes on before someone else comes in," she saw the effect her naked body was having on him. "I'm sure your dry clothes will be here soon," damn her arms. She wanted to hold him, but they betrayed her.
He noticed and held her panties and she stepped into them. He knelt and smoothed them into place dropping a kiss on her flat stomach. He made a move lower and felt her hand on his head, "Nathaniel, we'll get caught," stopped him.
With a growl of protest, he reached for her socks, kissing her inner thighs, "Have to get some fun out of dressing you." He planted one last smooch near the top of her inner right thigh. If not so physically exhausted, she would have started dripping.
He closed the front clasp on her bra, enjoying watching her breast push together. Reilly hadn't brought her military issue bra, but one from her personal belongings. Reilly knew what the Commander wanted to look at; he was still a man, and she for one felt they deserved time together after what both went through.
Try as he might, she cried out when he asked her to lift her arms to get the t-shirt over her head, failing twice. He tossed it aside and pulled her jeans up, tight fitting, not her work pants. Remember to thank Reilly, fleeted through his mind. He picked up her short, black leather jacket and helped it on and sat down to put her boots on. Satisfied she was properly covered, he took her hand and led her to the outer area.
It was packed. Dr. Shannon was unsuccessfully trying to move most of his soldiers and top civilians outside. Reilly pushed through with his clothes in a backpack. "Washington, I'm not done with you, back on the bed," Dr. Shannon ordered and Taylor helped by ordering his people back to work.
"You'll have time to visit later," he promised.
That left the top civilians, who were ignoring the Doctor and Commander alike. As Wash sat on the edge of the bed, several crowded around led by Boylan. A bolt of jealousy shot through Taylor as his, 'Wash' pulled the bartender into a tight hug. He was going to have to make them understand, look, but don't touch, "You better be here when I get back," he ordered her and hurried to get into dry clothes.
"Commander, let me check your wound," he heard as he pushed through the well-wishers and sat beside his 'Wash' on the bed, drawing a glare from Washington as he pulled his shirt up.
"I want everyone out of here now. You have forever to talk to the Lieutenant; OUT," her firmness finally moved the stragglers outside. She turned back to the Commander and saw Washington already had his bandage cut off. She listened in amusement as he got an earful.
"Well, you were supposed to be here to sew me up, Wash. It's not my fault that I had to settle for a doctor, and you know how they are."
Dr. Shannon just smiled as the two went at it over her head as she leaned down to inspect the wound.
"She wouldn't have had to do anything if your sense of chivalry hadn't chosen that piss-poor moment to rear its ugly head. Never again, Taylor, never again am I listening to you. I'm done."
"Awww, Wash," he whined, "We're so good together; you don't mean it." He broke off as Dr. Shannon told them she was done. Looking down he found the wound re-bandaged.
"How the hell did it happen, Taylor?" her tone was a sure indication his Lieutenant was still pissed that he had the audacity to get hurt when she wasn't there to help.
"Not important," he didn't want to bring up Lucas' name just yet, too painful.
"Both of you," Dr. Shannon pointed at them, "get out of here. Washington, come back if you don't feel good. Remember what I told you, come back in the morning for a checkup." She watched Alicia nod.
"I'll send someone for our clothes," Wash stated.
Elizabeth watched Taylor lift Alicia off the bed to her feet and put her hand in the crook of his arm.
They walked slowly to her quarters, looking at the damage that remained and the massive cleanup effort underway. Spirits were higher for everyone who saw them; the sight of the command team together again was a positive sign.
"Your place or mine?" He was never leaving her alone again.
"Are you sure?" She wanted the relationship out in the open for years, but Nathanial kept them quiet, paying late night visits and leaving before dawn. True, lately he had slipped into her home almost every night, but treated her no different during the day than he had for the past eight years.
He put an arm across her shoulders, drawing her close to him even if she couldn't return the affection, an open display in front of everyone they met. Nobody seemed to mind and he didn't care if they did. She wondered if this was how it was going to be. He seemed ready to commit openly, at least today.
"We need to talk, Nathaniel," she didn't want this to be a spur of the moment reaction to her being alive, and regret his public display later.
"Yes we do; your place or mine?" His repeated question drew a slight smile. He leaned over and kissed her temple lightly, another public display, "Want me to grope you right here among the fruit, to make myself clear?" This finally drew the laugh he loved.
"Buy us some food, I'm starving," she watched him pay as she selected fresh fruit and a fish kabob for each of them. "Your place is closer," she chose.
"Shannon," Taylor nodded to him as they left the market area, "You're in charge. Unless we're under attack, I'm off limits."
Shannon laughed, "What about Wash, can I bug her?" He knew the answer by the scowl and silent mouthing "Fuck you, Shannon," making him laugh harder as they walked by him.
Food consumed, Wash took a pain pill from her jacket pocket, "I'm tired, can we lie down?" She swallowed and took a slug of water from the glasses he had set out for them. He took a second pill out of her hand and swallowed with her water, a combo pain and sleeping pill. Dr. Shannon gave enough for both of them to Washington.
He led her by the hand to his bedroom. Stripping to their underwear, they crawled under the covers.
"I haven't been in this room since I got back yesterday. I slept in your bed last night," he admitted while turning her over to spoon, his arm securely pinning her to him, hand on her stomach.
"Jim told me you did Chula Chaum. I don't mind being stuck here as long as I'm with you."
His arm tensed drawing her even closer. "Me too, babe," he kissed her shoulder, "very sore?"
"Hmmm, I won't be using them for a few days," her one hand settled over his. "Your arm is going to go to sleep," she wound her fingers of her free hand up to entwine with his. He had her head pillowed on his left arm, keeping his injured left side up.
Comfortable, they both drifted off. Sleep finally coming to Taylor, he whispered into her hair as he dropped off, "Don't ever leave me."
She heard, but couldn't respond.